


grey spaces

by nonbinaryxion



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, F/M, Mentions of RobStar, Red X Is Jason Todd, mentions of sex too but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryxion/pseuds/nonbinaryxion
Summary: Raven finds a box next to her boyfriend's bed.(This isn't going where you think it's going.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting unfinished for longer than i care to admit, but it was ace day and yesterday and i love projecting onto my fav characters...so enjoy. x

Perched at the edge of Jason’s bed, Raven rolled the box over in her fingers — gingerly, as if it might detonate at any moment, as if it might sprout fangs and strike. She hunched forward, elbows braced against her thighs, steady colour rising against the pale of her cheeks as her eyes skipped over the packaging. As if she might find some clue that this was a prank (yes, a prank, _that_ seemed much more his style, though it’d be a tasteless one).

He _must_ have known she’d walk in and see this. Jason knew _exactly_ how to hide things if he had to — even himself, for a _year_ , behind a borrowed mask — and this was far too carefully placed, centred on his bedside table. What was the right response to a box of condoms in your boyfriend’s room?

_Azar help me._

Was Jason trying to tell her he was ready, in his own indirect way? Did he _expect_ this from her? No — no, that _wasn’t_ Jason. Jason hadn’t even _kissed_ her without asking first. Whatever impressions his flirtatious Red X persona gave, he’d always respected her boundaries.

He — he hadn’t done this for _her_ , had he? Had she been broadcasting signals without realising?

Was this something she wanted?

In the months she’d spent with Jason, sex had rarely crossed her mind. It wasn’t that he was _unattractive_. Anything but. It just — it wasn’t a _priority_ , or something she’d seek out. She’d read the novels, seen the movies, borne dozens of Starfire’s effusive (and just a little too illustrative for Raven’s comfort) raves over nights spent in Robin’s arms. She knew, _theoretically_ , how it should feel: the heat, the heady need, the gravitational pull of another body; she just couldn’t speak from experience. On Azarath, sexual desires were considered something to be controlled and risen above, and Raven had never given it much thought. But Earth — America — was different. Raven was struck, again, by that sense of _otherness_ she worked so hard to ignore. An unbelonging that, for once, had nothing to do with her father. _Unless it does._

The more she tried to think about her and Jason and sex, the more something in her recoiled. Chest tightening, her gut crying _no_. Did this make her a bad girlfriend? _Shouldn’t_ she want this? Was this because she wasn’t human?

She put the condoms down on the bed beside her and hugged her knees. Whatever Jason had meant, it probably wasn’t to give her a small existential crisis.

The _click_ of a door latch. Raven’s head snapped up; a spike of panic sent the box skittering across the bed with a flicker of black light. _Control yourself._ She took a steadying breath, straightening her limbs and schooling her face (though there was nothing she could do about her flushed cheeks). _Just look him in the eye and ask him._ But what if he felt rejected?

“Rae?” Jason called; she heard him set down his keys. Here it comes. “I was thinking, what d’you —”

— he stopped short in the bedroom doorway. Curls mussed, jacket slick from rain, laden with grocery bags. Staring at the condoms.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to find them.

They locked eyes and spoke at the same time.

“I found these —“

“If you wanted —”

They stopped. Jason dropped the groceries and combed a hand through his hair, scattering raindrops. He raised his brow, though it made him look more searching than surprised. “Uh. Raven. If you...wanted sex, you could’ve said so.”

Her heart could have stopped. “Excuse me?”

“Just — _warn_ a guy if you’re gonna spring condoms on him.”

Oh. _Oh._ “Jason, these aren’t mine. I found them here. I thought they were yours.”

He blinked. “Then who the hell put them in my —”

Acute irritation crossed his face. He whipped a phone from his pocket, speed dialling, stepping back to mutter something sharply down the line. Raven’s dread shifted, became confusion.

Finally, Jason closed the call without so much as a goodbye, dropping onto the bed beside her. “According to my dick brother, you dick teammates broke into my place and decided we needed help with our sex life.”

Raven closed her eyes, rubbing her temple. _Beast Boy..._

But she couldn’t quite deny her relief, either. It hadn’t been Jason’s idea after all.

“Look, I’ll get rid of these,” he said. “If you want. It’s no big deal.”

 _If you want._ And there it was, anxiety spiking all over again. Jason was studying her, carefully composed, holding the box. What _did_ she want?

Raven drew her knees in tighter, looking away. “Do _you_ want to...?”

Raven, as a rule, highly valued her privacy - and for her this entailed respecting others’ as well, which wasn’t always simple when working around innate psychic empathy. The walls she’d erected through years of dedication and reflection and suppression were usually enough. But near someone like Jason — someone whose emotions seethed against his skin even at his most controlled — they’d cave and flicker, and Raven felt the abrupt wash of uncertainty from the boy to her right. He turned the box over in his hands like a puzzle, brow furrowed, the weight of his thoughts pressing into her as he silently measured his words.

“Would it make me a shitty boyfriend if I say no?”

Raven stared at him. An odd, confused cocktail of relief and hurt curled in her stomach.

This — this was _good_. This _was_ — but — shouldn’t he at least _want_ to? With her?

_Hypocrite. Make up your mind._

“It’s _not_ you,” Jason hastened to add, not even glancing up. Though his features were still blank, his right hand had found his left wrist, thumb lightly tracing the pulse point there (an anxious habit — Raven had caught him before, furiously counting his pulse to calm his racing mind and trembling fingers). “It’s just. Something about _me_. I don’t feel about _anyone_ that way.” He paused. Weighing. “I don’t give a shit about sex either. Guess I’m just fucking weird, right?”

He was flippant, but she felt the edge to his voice — a tiny trace of the sense of alienation behind the words. And then she understood completely, apprehension washing away.

Raven shifted closer, shoulder flush with his. His jacket was still damp, but this barely registered. “Then so am I.”

He looked up, letting go of his wrist. He was quiet for a second or two — digesting the words, their meaning — before a small smile sparked in his eye, shoulders relaxing. “Alright.” The ex-thief looped an arm around her waist; Raven leant her head easily into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes, breathing the smell of the rain. It had taken them a long, long time to reach this point, and plenty of drama: both guarded, both stubborn, neither willing to feel worthy of the gentle pleasure of hands laced together. They still felt that, sometimes. Call it a work in progress.

“Are you trying to soak through the bed?”

Jason snorted. “It’ll survive.” He paused again. “There’s a word for what we are, y’know. Asexual.”

“Hm.” _Asexual._ It sounded — good. _Promising._ Something loosened in her chest, a knot she hadn’t known was there. But she could investigate further later; there would be all the time in the world for her and Jason to work this out. She craned her neck a little, nose brushing Jason’s jaw. “You were asking something?”

His grin rippled against her. “I was gonna ask what movie you wanted to watch tonight.” His free hand rummaged in an almost-forgotten grocery bag, producing three DVD cases. “ _Wicker Man_ , _The Room_ or _Sharknado 2_. Pick your poison.”

She pulled away far enough to give him a sharp look. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“You wish, Sunshine. You’re stuck with me. ‘Sides, I ordered Chinese.”

A sigh. “Fine. But I’m not making out with you to _Sharknado_.”

As it turned out, that’s exactly what they wound up doing — Jason combing a hand through Raven’s short hair, legs tangled, noses bumping and breath mingling against the oh-so-romantic backdrop of B-movie acting with noodles in their lap. Warm and gentle and hard-earned and _enough_ , just enough, for the both of them.


End file.
